Squire
by Emmeebee
Summary: Peter's parents urged him to try to make friends, even when it meant putting himself into situations he wasn't comfortable with. This probably wasn't what they had in mind.


A/N: Written by Chaser 1 of Montrose Magpies for QLFC Round 13.

Prompt: Knight: Write about a normally timid character going into battle.

Optional prompts: (word) checkmate; (colour) steel grey; (word) strategy

Word count: 2343

While Harry got the Invisibility Cloak in his first year, I think James' parents would have waited until he was older to give it to him, especially given how much trouble they'd know he'd cause with it. I could see him stealing it early and them deciding to look the other way, but I don't think he would have showed up at the start if first year with it.

* * *

A burst of chatter broke through the quiet tranquillity of the Gryffindor common room, tearing Peter's attention from his Transfiguration essay for the fifth time in the past half an hour. Groaning, he dropped his head onto the table in front of him, his eyes closing as he let out a silent plea for the noise to stop. He had hoped to finish all of his homework the night before, but a few of the older students had decided to put together a chess tournament, and he hadn't been able to wrap his head around the new concepts through the sound of constant cheering whenever anyone made a particularly smart move or forced their opponent into a checkmate. Reading already took him about three times as long as it took his classmates; he didn't need any further complications on top of that. Instead, he had decided to go to bed early in the hope of waking up before anyone else and finishing it then. Apparently, however, that wasn't to be.

Raising his head, he glanced over at the armchairs by the fire, where three of his new roommates were huddled over a piece of parchment. Remus — 'the smart one', as he had come to be known in the six short weeks since the start of term — held a quill in his hand and was nodding as he moved it across the page, a focused expression on his face. Meanwhile, James and Sirius — who were rapidly proving themselves to be real characters, as Peter's mother would say — appeared to be arguing over something, their gestures getting bigger and bigger by the second as their voices continued to rise. Nominally, Peter was friends with all three of them, but they always seemed to be doing something that they didn't want him to know about. From what he had gathered while doing his best to tune them out, this time, they were planning to set Dungbombs off during Potions so they wouldn't have to take a test that day. They seemed to have everything planned except for how to get in and out without getting caught. James and Sirius were already making a name for themselves as mischief-makers, and Remus couldn't do everything that needed to be done by himself.

A thought popped into Peter's head. It was far-fetched, and they would probably laugh at him, but he was used to that by now. And his parents had urged him to try to make friends, even when it meant putting himself into situations he wasn't comfortable with — which, to be fair, was most situations. This wasn't what they would have had in mind, but they were so concerned about him fitting in that they probably wouldn't care. Before he could second-guess himself, he stood up and made his way over to the other three boys. "Hullo."

He had to repeat himself a few times before they finally noticed him and fell silent, Remus 'subtly' leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table so his arms bracketed the piece of parchment, casting shadows over the words so Peter couldn't read their strategy.

"When did you get here?" Sirius asked almost accusatorily.

Peter ignored him, knowing that if he replied, he would just get distracted. "I think I can help you."

"With what?" James' eyebrows drew together, looking as though he was trying to act casual.

Perhaps, if Peter hadn't heard so much of their conversation, he might even have believed it. "With your plan. You're trying to break into the Potions classroom, right? I know how you can get in."

"And how's that?" Sirius leant back in his chair and folded his arms. His grey eyes were as hard and flat as beaten steel, and his expression was as prickly and closed-off as a cactus.

Peter's heart was pounding in his chest, his instincts shouting at him to retreat. He'd had his lunch stolen and his forearm twisted enough times to recognise that look and know that it didn't bode well for him. But Sirius had asked the question, and it gave Peter the opening he needed. If he backed down now, they would just see him as the coward that — well, that he was, and he would probably never be able to gather enough courage to talk to them again. "People tend not to see me. That or they forget that I'm there. If Remus distracts Slughorn, I bet I can sneak in and plant the Dungbombs without anyone noticing me."

The hair on the back of Peter's neck prickled under the weight of their collective gaze. He wasn't used to being the centre of attention, especially when that attention _wasn't_ because everyone was making fun of him. The genuine consideration in their eyes felt strange to him. Even Sirius' steel grey eyes had softened slightly, now looking curious rather than adversarial.

"I mean," he continued, remembering how his father always talked about the importance of making the most of any advantages, "I was here before you were, and James even said good morning, but you got so wrapped up in your plans that you forgot all about me."

"Alright," James said. "Why not?"

"Are you out of your mind?" Sirius exclaimed. "What if he gets us caught?"

"I'm not comfortable with dragging someone else into this," Remus said at almost exactly the same time.

James rolled his eyes. "The worst that will happen is that we get detention and have to sit the test today after all. And, Remus, you were the one who said we can't do it with just the three of us. If Peter already knows the plan, why not use him?"

"I suppose," Sirius said slowly.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Remus asked, his concerned gaze meeting Peter's. "We won't blame you if you want to back out."

"I'm sure."

"Great!" James rubbed his hands together and, with a broad grin, pulled the parchment out from the cover of Remus' elbows. "Why don't we run through this all from the top to see if Peter has any other suggestions? So we were planning on having Remus show up at Slughorn's classroom when he's about to leave for lunch..."

Peter's chest felt jittery as he pulled an armchair over to the table and settled into it. It was like he was standing on the edge of a huge precipice, staring down at where they stood on the ground below, with only a homemade parachute to keep him safe. He could crash or he could soar, and he would have no way of knowing which one it would be until he felt the tug of the fabric as it slowed his fall. All he had to go on was faith in his own handiwork.

It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

To his surprise, he loved the feeling.

-x-

It felt like Peter's heart was racing a mile a minute as he muttered a Sticking Charm under his breath and attached the Dungbomb to the bottom of Slughorn's desk. Peeking out around the leg of the table, he confirmed that Slughorn was still out in the hallway with Remus and slowly rose to his feet. That was the last one, fortunately — now, all he had to do was get back out again. Moving as slowly and quietly as he could, he made his way back to the doorway and paused, assessing the situation. Slughorn was facing away from him and still seemed to be distracted by his conversation with Remus about some obscure Potions theory that the boy was pretending not to understand. Peter nodded at Remus around the man's back.

"I think I get it now," Remus said. "So you need to put the flower petals in first to reduce the toxicity of the potion so it's safe to handle?"

" _Yes!_ That's exactly right, my boy."

As Slughorn launched into an explanation of the implications that had for the art of Potion-making, Peter carefully eased himself through the doorway and back into his original position.

It took a few more minutes for Remus and Slughorn to wrap up the conversation, but Peter was content to just stand there and bask in his success. There was still more to do — at some point during the test, they were going to have to find the opportunity to cast the countercharm to make the Dungbombs fall to the floor and break open — but the hard part was over. He had done it, and he had done it largely by himself. Sure, James had taught him how to cast the charm, and Sirius had worked out where to place the Dungbombs for maximum effect, and Remus had distracted Slughorn for the time it took for Peter to put it all into motion. But at the end of the day, Peter had been alone in that classroom with his nerves and his fear.

For the first time, it felt like he had done something that was worthy of praise.

The only issue was that he couldn't tell anyone about it.

"We should let you go," Remus said. "We've kept you from your lunch for long enough as it is. But that all makes much more sense now. Isn't that right, Peter?"

"Peter?" Slughorn asked, turning around. His eyes widened as he came face-to-face with the second boy. "Oh, Mr Pettigrew, I didn't..."

"So much more sense," Peter agreed, playing along. "Thanks again for taking the time to explain it to us."

"That's alright." Slughorn stepped back so that he could look back and forth between the two of them, his expression flicking between confusion, sheepishness, and guilt. "If you ever need more help, you, ah, both know where to find me."

As they separated, the boys claiming to need to duck into the toilet before lunch so they wouldn't have to walk up with him, Peter couldn't keep the grin off his face. Their plan had gone off without a hitch.

"You did great," Remus said when they were out of earshot. "I still can't believe he didn't notice you."

Peter shrugged. "It's a curse and a talent."

"Whatever it is, it was brilliant."

"I told you I could do it," Peter said, remembering how reluctant Remus had been to have him on board. He hadn't had the chance to digest it properly at the time since it wasn't long after that that James had overridden him, sending Peter's nerves into a frenzy. But now that he had the chance to think about it, it hurt. He would have thought that, out of all of them, Remus would be the one to most understand where he was coming from and just how badly he wanted to be included.

Remus eyed him speculatively; something in Peter's tone must have tipped the other boy off to his meaning. "It wasn't that I thought you couldn't do it, Peter. It's just that we could have gotten in a lot of trouble if we got caught, and you would have been the one in the thick of it. It was obvious that you were offering to help because you wanted to make friends rather than because you actually wanted to do it, and I didn't think that was fair on you."

"Isn't that why you're doing it?"

Remus' steps faltered. "Pardon?"

"You can't tell me that you honestly want to get out of the test. You could ace it with your hands tied _and_ your eyes closed."

"It might be a little difficult to sit a test if I can't see or write," Remus said, a smirk playing across his lips for a moment before, suddenly, he sobered up. "And you're right. I… I'm used to people treating me like I'm different. Kids think I'm too smart, and adults think I'm too quiet, and my _parents_ — Well, the point is that it's nice to have people look at me like I'm normal for once. Does that make sense?"

Peter nodded. As someone who would do anything in the world to have friends, it made perfect sense.

"But I'm hoping to guilt James and Sirius into using the extra time to study. That way, some good will come out of it, you know? I mean, we're all still going to sit the test eventually, so it's not like it's _that_ bad..."

It sounded an awful lot like Remus was trying to convince himself rather than Peter. Peter's father always told him that when someone did that, it meant they were feeling guilty and wanted someone else to reassure them that there was no reason to. "Of course it isn't," Peter said. And he meant it.

"I'm really glad you offered to help, Pete," Remus said. "Who knows? Maybe, together, we'll be able to convince them to rein it in a little." After a moment, he added, "Is it alright if I call you that?"

His parents were the only ones who had ever called him that. Hearing it in someone else's voice was weird, but it was in the best way. "Of course."

In his mind, the world was split up into heroes, sidekicks, and bullies. Boys like Remus and Peter weren't made to make the big decisions; they were made to tag along behind the decision-makers, following instructions and helping out where they could. It was like James and Sirius were twin princes, with Remus as their loyal knight. They rushed headfirst through life because it simply didn't occur to them that there might be a situation in which someone _wasn't_ there to break their fall, while Remus rode in after them to make sure no one came to harm.

It was clear that Peter would never be a prince _or_ a knight; he might be a Gryffindor, but he didn't have that kind of foolhardy bravery or selflessness. But if they let him, he would be content with being a squire.

As long as it allowed him to remain within the little kingdom they were starting to build for themselves, he would do anything.


End file.
